


It All Comes Down To You

by Nifters



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Argent Kingdom vs. Hale Kingdom, Full Wolf Alphas, Graphic Descriptions of blood, Graphic descriptions of violence, M/M, Minor Character Death, Multi, Original Character Death(s), Prince Derek, Slow Burn, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Stiles and Erica are bros, Stiles is in the wrong place at the wrong time, War AU, Wolf Derek, royal au, wolves are known
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-07
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 05:17:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4292142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nifters/pseuds/Nifters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is in the wrong place at the wrong time and finds himself on the run from the Argent Kingdom. Who is to find him but a mysterious group of attractive people living in a cabin in the woods? Stiles finds out that the beasts of the Hale Preserve his mother used to tell him about may be real after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my second attempt at Sterek, with a beautiful Royal AU. I'm about halfway through writing this up, and it is quite the wordy monster! Suggestions, comments, and constructive criticism is all welcome! Any major warnings will be posted prior to chapters. Thank you! Please enjoy the first chapter. I will post another in the next few days if it's well received!

Stiles was running. Trees whipped past him as he pushed forward, breath becoming harder and harder to obtain with every step. He could feel the adrenaline flowing through him, urging him to go further into the preserve. A ways behind him horses snorted and stamped the ground, keeping pace but not gaining on him due to the thick foliage. Stiles refused to stop. He knew that, if he did, there was no way he was getting out of this alive.

  
If he lived to tell the tale, Stiles was totally going to murder Scott with a rusty spoon. After all, the only reason this had happened was because his best friend wanted to get laid. The two were sneaking into the Argent’s Castle, so that Scott could see the lovely maiden Allison, whom he had only shared a few words but nevertheless was infatuated with. Stiles, being the brilliant wingman and lock-picker, was brought to tag along and wait in a nearby room for Scott’s return. Stiles was in a small section of the Argent library, waiting for the two to finish their visit when he had come across the body.

  
It was a shame really; he had been enjoying a copy of some old fairy tales he had come across. It was beautifully illustrated, and spoke of powerful hunters of Argent descent that killed things that went bump in the night. Stiles was admiring an exceptionally gruesome picture of a woman clad in armor ripping open the body of what appeared to be a large wolf with three arrows when he noticed a splash of yellow against the dull green carpet, illuminated by the glowing fireplace.

Golden ringlets were tainted from the bright blood drizzling from her neck, her throat torn by what appeared to be claws. The wound was fresh, as if it had just occurred, the blood still slowly spreading on the rug. Kate Argent, beloved yet crazy daughter of King Argent, lay sprawled on the floor, surprised fear etched into her pretty face. Stiles managed a loud gasp before dropping the book he was browsing and backed up. He managed to knock into a table holding a rather ornate but unlit candleholder, and froze as it clattered against the stone floor. He only had a moment to take in the reality of the situation before a door was wrenched open. As the armored man stepped foot into the library and locked eyes with Stiles, the boy took off.

  
He had been running ever since. Stiles knew it was futile to argue his innocence. He may be just be a stable boy, but he wasn’t completely daft to King Argent’s devotion to his two heirs. He’d be hanging in the city square before he even got the chance to speak.

  
It was hell just getting out of the castle, only to be caught sight of as he left town. He set for the Hale preserve then, knowing that it was his best chance of making it out alive. His main goal was to get to the river, and improvise from there; it undoubtedly was heavy in flow, due to the upcoming spring, but it was his only chance. Anywhere else and the soldiers would have caught up with him and put an arrow through his back. At least the dense forest would slow their mounts and deem their long-range weaponry useless.

  
The Kingdom never spread past the river, as rumors of vicious wolves lived amongst the bramble. Citizens of the Hale Kingdom were always described as animalistic brutes. The ones mothers would tell their children about to keep them from running into the woods. They were known to fight only with their two hands, if the rumors were true. Stiles preferred his mom’s version of the population, to be honest. She had always thought of them as really nice creatures trying to protect themselves with scary stories.

  
The Argents have been at war with the Hales for quite some time now, since Stiles was little, but recently the battles have all but stopped. The Argents have no doubt claimed victory over the other Kingdom. But, due to how thick the Preserve foliage was, the Argents left the shattered kingdom across the river alone.  
He had been fleeing for what felt like hours now. Any lead he got away from the horses was snipped quickly, and Stiles was forced to continue his trek through the wilderness. This particular area was extremely thick, and Stiles cursed himself under his breath for allowing the guards to catch up with him. It meant he could not navigate the path as slowly as he would have liked.

  
Stiles let out a painful yelp when his foot caught against a root, and he tumbled in a fury of limbs for a few moments downhill. He was quick to stand again, only to fall to his knees at the pain radiating from his ankle. “Pull it together, Stiles!” He mumbled, forcing himself to push forward. The river was close; he could hear the rapids in the distance, no more than a half a mile away. Behind him, he could also hear the grunts of the horses pushing forward.

  
It was life or death, so Stiles surged forward with all of his might, ignoring his ankle and not looking back. He was going to make it to the water, even if it killed him. He cried out in joy when the river appeared in his sight. He stumbled towards its fast current.

  
He was at a loss, however. There was no way Stiles could cross the river at this pace, and definitely not with his injury. He was a decent swimmer, but the flow would be too much for him to fight against, and he was sure to have an arrow put through him as soon as he made it to the other side. Stiles continued to run through his options before a snort alerted him to the guards.

  
“Halt!” Stiles’ heart sank at the sound as he whipped around to see his pursuers. There were four, all on horseback, dressed in the royal silver and blue of the Argent family. Two aimed bows at him, while the others held swords, both of which dismounted. The tallest one spoke, sword poised in front of him. Stiles assumed he was the leader. “You are wanted for the murder of Kat—“

  
“I didn’t kill her!” Stiles yelled out, slowly backing up with every second. At this rate, he would fall into the river. The head guard, a middle-aged man with multiple scars adorning his dark face, sneered at him.

  
“You were found at the scene of her death.”

  
“I found her; there’s a difference! I have no quarrel with the Argents. I don’t even have a weapon on me. I’ve never hurt anything, I swear. Please, I beg you to listen to reason—“

  
“I grow tired of your excuses.” The man bellowed. “You will be hung for your crimes against the King.” He gestured at the other swordsman. “Seize him.”

  
Stiles’ eyes grew wide in fear as the man started towards him. The water sloshed behind him, slowly drowning out all of his thoughts. Perhaps if he… Stiles almost rolled his eyes at the thought. However, he realized that, if he stays, he is most definitely dead; on the other hand, there was also that. He sighed at his only two options.

  
God, Stiles hopes his dad never finds his body.

  
Stiles turned and promptly jumped into the rapids of the river, much to the dismay of the guards.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles finds himself, after fleeing, saved by a rag tag group of people living deep in the Hale Preserve.

Stiles awoke some hours later to soft voices whispering around him. His entire body ached, and he was aware that he was soaking wet. His shoulder in particular was throbbing, and as he went to move he let out a low groan from the pain that surged into his forehead. Sand clung to his clothing and skin. Stiles attempted to wiggle his toes, and was happy to feel that he still could.

The whispered voices froze for a moment at the groan before furiously announcing that holy shit, he’s alive. Had Stiles not just been flung around in a river and left to die on the bank, he probably would have laughed.

“Shit. What do we do?” A feminine voice said, “No one could survive a ride down the river like that.”

“Get the Alpha. He’ll know what to do.” This time the voice was that of a male. Stiles felt like this one was a bit younger than the others. Perhaps it was just the meekness in his voice. He attempted to open his eyes, and was temporarily blinded by the warm orange glow of the morning. He took into account shuffling from beside him. He could barely make out the shapes of the two people helping him.

He tried to speak to them, but nothing came out. For just have taken a ride in the river, Stiles just now realized that he was awfully thirsty. He could barely shift his body, and he could feel sleep pulling at him again. The world started to dull, along with his aches. The girl spoke again, and Stiles could barely understand her.

“--get help now. Do— a name?” He felt a hesitant small hand carding through his hair, and Stiles succumbed to a dreamless slumber after muttering a breathy “Stiles.”

-

He woke up slowly in a well-padded bed, the sheets pulled up to his chin. He could still feel the damage the run and river did, but the pain spread throughout his body was significantly less than before. There was a bandage across his bare chest, and what felt like a splint attached to his ankle. He noticed that he couldn’t move his right arm very well, and found it a bit hard to breathe, as if he’d cracked a few ribs. He slowly eased himself into a seated position with minimal groaning, and took into account his surroundings.

He was in what appeared to be a cabin, light shining faintly through a window on the far wall. There were a few pieces of furniture about, with little wooden carved figures covering their surfaces. The sheets on the bed were made of thick dark fur. Paintings of various talent were hung against the walls, along with countless trinkets of animals, like antlers, teeth, and pelts. Stiles couldn't help but wonder if he had really been lucky enough to stumble into the one insane family living in the Hale forest. 

He couldn't remember much from the river ride. He knew that he had jumped into the rapids, and that he must have been in the water for a decent amount of time, but nothing else. From jumping to being found on the beach, there was a complete blank space in his mind. No matter how hard he tried, he could not remember. He hoped it was just because it was too soon after the event, and not a head injury. The last thing Stiles wanted to deal with was brain trauma.

He pushed his thoughts aside and looked to his right. There was a cup of water beside him on the nightstand, and Stiles made a quick grab for it with his good arm without really thinking about it. The sudden surge of pain in his abdomen caused him to cry out. He steadied himself as the pain subsided. As he reached for the water again, this time very slow, the door he had not noticed before opened to reveal a young man.

He was fairly tall, with a full chest and arms that Stiles would likely pay money to watch be flexed. Dark stubble coated the man’s cheeks, and piercing greenish blue eyes narrowed at the sight of him. He was wearing a simple dark tunic, sleeves rolled up, and black trousers, but no shoes. He was easily the most attractive person Stiles had ever seen, and that was saying something; Stiles had crashed many of the Argent Castle's dances with Scott and none of the guests could compare to the man standing in the door way .

“You’re awake.” He mentioned, not removing his eyes from Stiles. He felt his heart rate increase under the scrutiny of the man's gaze. Stiles had wanted to speak, but for once, he had no words. Stiles composed himself enough to give a curt nod and instead took a much desired sip of water. He let out a moan in pleasure at the taste. 

"You know, after that experience, I never expected water to taste so amazing." Stiles winked, trying to break the ice. The man was having none of it, and gave him a very weird look from the doorway, thick eyebrows raised. Without missing a beat, he turned and called out: “Erica” before walking out of Stiles’s sight down the hall.

Albeit confused, Stiles decided to not think too much about his fail of a conversation starter and this extremely attractive individual whose home he had invaded. He moved to place his cup down again, and hissed in pain once more, the wooden cup clattering to the ground. He really needed to stop moving so fast. 

“I feel like death.” He muttered with a groan, slowly easing himself into a position that was the least painful on his ribs.

“Not far from it, actually.” A quirky voice answered. He looked up to see a rather attractive woman about his age standing in the doorway. Well, more like leaning suggestively, but to each their own. She wore a simple cotton shirt, bodice and trousers, much like the man before, except her feet were covered by a pair of worn brown hiking boots. Her smirk was devious, flushed by bright red lips and a heart-shaped face surrounded by yellow curls.

At the sight of her, Stiles vaguely remembered how he got into this predicament, all because of a curly blonde dead in the library, and had to look away from whom he assumed was Erica. He started to think about Scott and his dad, and whether they were okay. It was only a matter of time until they found out who he was, and the Argents are not known to play fair. It was the crunchy sound of someone taking a bite out of an apple that had him looking at Erica again.

She was clutching a Red Delicious in one hand as she walked in to pick the cup from the ground and place it on the nightstand. “You were shot with an arrow. Your ankle is sprained. You’ve broken your arm and thankfully only bruised your ribs. Not to mention the likely trauma to your head. It’s a wonder you’re even still breathing after your evening swim in the river.”

She pulled a chair from the corner and set it by the bedside before sitting down in it and taking another crunchy bite from the vibrant fruit. She leaned in close. “Now, we were wondering: Who the hell did you piss off to get shot and washed up on our doorstep?”

Stiles studied the girl. She didn’t _seem_ like she was a part of the Argent’s followers, but he wasn’t about to just tell her his life story. He decided to play dumb. “I... was shot?” The girl’s eyes flicked to his bandaged shoulder, and now he remembered. As he jumped into the river, both bowmen fired into the water and while one fortunately had grazed him, the other punctured high into his shoulder blade.

“Yeah.” She said. “It was a bitch to get out since the shaft snapped. Just be happy that Boyd is great at impromptu medical procedures.” Stiles latched onto the name. Perhaps Boyd was the dark haired man from before?

Stiles decided that finding out the names of insanely attractive individuals was not important right now. “Where am I?” He chose to ask instead, examining his arm in the makeshift sling. Erica looked over him as she chewed away.

“Depends on where you came from.” She smirked. “The river is quite long.” Stiles moved to speak once more, but they were interrupted by a knock on the door. He looked up to see a curly haired boy holding a tray laden with food.

“I, uh. I made soup. Figured you were hungry.” Stiles vaguely remembered the male voice from the river bank. This boy was similarly dressed like the others, except in just a light shirt and brown pants. His face was cherub-like and Stiles had the urge to just shower the boy in hugs at his perceived innocence.

Stiles’s stomach grumbled at the sight of it. Considering his last meal was breakfast yesterday, he suddenly felt ravenous. The boy gave a small smile and walked towards the bed, revealing the food.

“Rabbit stew and fresh bread. My specialty.” The kid winked as he placed the tray upon Stiles’ lap.  “My name is Isaac. Pleasure to meet you.” Stiles eyed the food for a minute, wondering if maybe it had been poisoned, but the thought quickly went away. After all, one wouldn’t waste valuable medical supplies just to kill a man with a loaf of bread.

After thanking Isaac he began eating, and chose to listen to the small talk between Erica and boy. They had been bickering about some broken planks on a dock somewhere outside the cabin before bringing up Boyd's name again. Stiles really did wonder if that was who the man before was called. It honestly didn't seem to fit the guy, in Stiles' opinion. “So can I assume the hunt was successful?”Erica asked. She had long since finished her apple, the core tossed out the window with such grace Stiles had momentarily stopped eating. Isaac nodded in response, a smile on his lips.

“Yeah. Two hares and a pheasant were in the traps, and Boyd caught a deer early this morning. He’s skinning it out back.” Stiles was now working on the bread, which was somehow still warm and delicious, when the dark-haired man from before reappeared with a knock.

The two beside him quieted down as he stepped forward. “I’d like to speak to our guest.” When the two did not move, the man rolled his eyes and huffed out: “alone.” With a smirk and a wink in Stiles’ direction, Erica stood up. Isaac grabbed the dishes and together the two walked past the man, heads down but with small smiles gracing their cheeks. Erica bumped the man's side with her hip, looking back at Stiles.

"He's cute. We should keep him." Stiles couldn't help his rather expressive but silent reaction of What The Hell? The dark haired man rolled his eyes and shooed her down the hall with a wave of his hand. Stiles looked at the man expectantly, waiting for him to speak. When he didn't immediately start talking, Stiles raised his eyebrows and took a large bite of bread. The man moved to shut the door, and then sat in the chair beside the bed that Erica had previously occupied. “How are you feeling?” He asked. Stiles swallowed the last of the loaf he had been chewing on awkwardly. Leave it to the man to ask an open-ended question when Stiles had his mouth stuffed full. He licked his lips clean of crumbs, trying to avoid the bizarre stare of the man beside him, and answered.

“It hurts, but I’m sure I’ll be fine. Believe it or not, I've been through worse." Stiles said, looking up. As an afterthought, he added: "Thank you for everything. It’s really appreciated.” Stiles received a small nod in response. He was finding it to be extremely difficult to continue staring into the man’s eyes. The power he radiated made Stiles uneasy, but it wasn't going to stop him from having a normal conversation if he could help it. For all he knew the man could just have one of those faces.

“Good. Another day or so and you should be able to walk. ”

“Can you tell me where I am?” Stiles asked. The man studied him for a moment before replying.

“Deep in the Hale Preserve.” He answered. Stiles was given no inclination that he was going to get any more from him. He nodded, a little bit relieved. He had made it to Hale Territory after all. Derek continued after a moment of silence. “Where are you from, and why did you wash up on my river bank?” Stiles remembered how he got where he was. Flashbacks of Kate appeared briefly in his memory, face distorted and covered in blood. He shook his head at the thought before answering. The man’s eyes never left his while he spoke. Stiles would have lied, but something in his gut told him that this man wasn't the kind of person he could fool.

“Beacon, right outside the Argent Castle. I, uh, ran into some trouble helping a friend out, pissed off the wrong people. Went for a swim.” Stiles was all for the vagueness game. The man’s eyes flashed curiously at the story, and he continued to study him. He did not dwell though, and Stiles felt relief at the change of subject. The last thing he wanted to tell a complete stranger was that he found Kate Argent’s dead body and was thought to be the murderer.

“I’m told your name is Stiles. Is that correct?” The man asked. He was looking out the window now, interested in something Stiles could not see. Stiles made a sound of acknowledgement.

“Yes sir, Stiles Stilinski.” The man quirked his thick eyebrows at his name, and Stiles felt the need to clarify. “Stiles is just a nickname. My real name should never be spoken ever, honestly. It’s extremely hard to pronounce and even I have trouble sometimes.” The man nodded, the room falling to silence once more.

Stiles found that he couldn’t help himself. He really wanted to know the name of this person. “So I met Erica and Isaac, and they had mentioned someone named Boyd a few times." Stiles rushed out. "Is that your name?”

The man locked eyes with him again. He looked calm, collected even. His face was blank. “I’m not Boyd.” Stiles expected him to continue, but after a while he just stood and placed his hand against Stiles’ hurt shoulder. Stiles was confused until he looked over and saw black veins running up the man's arm; his pain was quickly receding from his body. The man eventually removed his hand and spoke softly: “Get some rest, Stiles.” Stiles felt drowsy after what he had just experienced, and could feel sleep pulling at him again. His aches all but disappeared.

“Bu-but your name?” He muttered sleepily. He wouldn't be Stiles if he at least try one more time to get the guy's name. His eyes were falling in and out of focus, but he swore that a smirk had appeared on the man’s face. After a few seconds, he couldn’t fight it any longer, and felt his eyes closing. Right before he fell under, he heard the man’s voice again.

Unable to understand, Stiles promptly blacked out, whispering Damn You in a frustrated tone. The man huffed in amusement, so Stiles counted it as a win. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Hope that was a little more interesting than the first part! <3  
> I've got chapter 3 all done and ready to go, but I'd like to get another chapter ahead before I post it. I'm going on vacation this week, so I likely wont post until Wednesday at least. Sorry about that!
> 
> Stay beautiful, everyone!
> 
> tumblr:  
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/nifterific

**Author's Note:**

> say hi to me on tumblr!  
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/nifterific


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